


Let There Be Cake

by LillysoftheValley



Series: BT Tower Telephone Group A [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is indecisive, BT Tower Telephone, Cake, Cake tasting, Crowley is fond, Do It With Style Events, Eating, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26649160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillysoftheValley/pseuds/LillysoftheValley
Summary: There are eighteen cakes in front of a very fussy angel. Yes, they did say they have the rest of their lives to figure things out, but Crowley is still getting impatient.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: BT Tower Telephone Group A [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937791
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Let There Be Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Croissants in the Cottage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656927) by [Scrumptious_Bastard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrumptious_Bastard/pseuds/Scrumptious_Bastard). 



Crowley leaned on the table with a little sigh. They had been in the bakery for three hours now, and Aziraphale was no closer to making a decision.

Spread across the white tablecloth were eighteen little plates, each containing a square of cake with a little forkful removed from one corner. Of these eighteen cakes, six were vanilla, four were chocolate, three were mocha, three were lemon, one was apricot, and one was lavender. Some had nuts, some had spices; some were light and airy, others dense and rich. There was every kind of frosting imaginable but Crowley had firmly insisted upon keeping any fondant out of the equation.

Aziraphale had the tasting down to a science, taking precise notes in a little book. A thorough examination was made of the quality of crumb, the consistency of frosting, the ratio of cake to filling. Carefully testing ease of slicing with both the tines and edge of the fork, they took a delicate sniff before tasting cake and frosting individually, then trying both together. Each sample was scrumptious, in its own way, but Aziraphale was looking for something truly special. A taste of cake that would evoke not only a pleasure to the palate -- not too sweet nor too spiced, sturdy enough to hold together yet not so rich it discouraged one from taking seconds -- but a cake that would be a delight to remember years down the line. The kind of cake that made one wistful for a happy occasion, the flavor forever associated with that one particular day.

Aziraphale's face was animated, eyes closed in concentration, mouth working carefully, little noises of pleasure or preponderance escaping depending on the flavor combination. A cake which passed the flavor test was marked by a delighted hum followed by a wiggle of shoulders and a note of several words in the booklet. Any not up to scratch would mean a furrowed brow and a curt huff, merely a few scratches or, as was the case with one of the lemon varieties, a bold X. It was a fascinating process to watch, but Crowley was still getting impatient. 

They managed to narrow the selection down to ten, but Aziraphale was stuck on debating the merits of the honey buttercream with the vanilla sponge, or the raspberry filling with the black forest chocolate. Plus, Crowley was sure, there was a certain amount of miracle work going on that meant each of the best little slices of cake lasted much longer than normal. Crowley sighed again, finally getting Aziraphale's attention.

'Oh, dear, I'm afraid I really can't decide! I thought I had settled on vanilla cake for certain, but now I'm wondering about that mocha with the chocolate frosting again. It was rather rich, but delectably wicked.' Aziraphale grinned and wiggled a bit in the chair. The smile faded. 'I don't know that I can choose.'

'It's just cake,' Crowley said. 'Not like we're adopting a puppy.'

'I just want everything to be perfect!'

Crowley reached across the table, linking slender fingers with plump ones. 'It will be. We've still got time, you don't have to choose right now.'

Aziraphale put down the fork with a decisive clink. 'Thank you, but I think if I don't choose now, I'll never be able to settle on anything. I never thought that planning a wedding would take this much work,’ they sighed.

'Yeah, well, you would overthink the catering,' Crowley said with a deeply affectionate smile. 'What about that one? I thought you liked that one.'

'I did, but upon reflection I don't think the filling would pair well with the wine.'

Crowley moved the plate to the side. Several more joined it in quick succession, with only a little protest from Aziraphale at the loss of a particularly interesting combination -- vanilla cake with an almost savory filling of spices and nuts -- leaving five plates before the angel.

'Couldn't we just . . . '

'No, angel. We are not having that many flavors.'

'But . . . '

'Two. You can have two.'

A delighted smile lit up Aziraphale's face. With renewed concentration, they flipped through the notebook, squinted hard at the assembled plates, then confidently slid two towards Crowley.

'These? You're sure?'

'Yes, dear. Absolutely.'

Crowley swiped a finger through the frosting of the left hand slice and gave it a careful taste with just the tip of their tongue. Aziraphale watched closely, hoping they approved. It wasn’t every day the demon ate anything so sweet and Aziraphale wanted to be sure they liked it. Crowley, not bothering with any fussiness, popped the finger in their mouth and licked it clean. The chocolate was dark, almost bitter; a perfect compliment to the nutty vanilla flavoring of the other piece that was tried next. They were savoring the flavors on that extraordinary tongue, eyes closed behind the glasses, but otherwise still. Aziraphale gripped the tablecloth nervously.

After a moment, Crowley smiled. ‘I think these will do nicely.’ Across the table, Aziraphale sighed in relief. ‘So, I suppose that means we won’t be going out for dinner.’

‘Why ever not?’ Aziraphale followed Crowley’s gaze as they looked pointedly at all the plates of cake. ‘Oh.’ A pleasantly rough foot rubbed at their ankle under the table and Crowley chuckled.

‘How about we try that tapas place? Something light, lots to sample?’

That sounded like an excellent idea to Aziraphale. After settling the order with the baker, they decided to walk to the restaurant, linking arms as they strolled together through the late afternoon sun. 

Perfectly matched.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Let Him Eat Cake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657896) by [bananaquit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananaquit/pseuds/bananaquit)




End file.
